


Drabbles from various fandoms

by felisblanco



Category: Dark Angel, Firefly, Leverage
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Collection of drabbles from various fandoms because I don't know where else to put them.





	Drabbles from various fandoms

**Always All Right**  
Alec McDowell (Dark Angel) for candygramme.

The thing is... The thing is he knows he's not alright. Not in his head, not in his soul. (Do clones even get souls, he sometimes wonders, or is his just a faulted book of rules with half the pages missing? He's not sure he wants to know.) Ain't no one that can see what he's seen or do what he's done and still be in one piece. But it's easier to fake, to play the cocky asshole who just doesn't give a fuck. Because as much as it hurts, all that contempt, at least it’s better than her pity.

 

\--------------

 **Stakeout**  
Hardison/Spencer (Leverage) for menomegirl

Stakeouts? Far from Eliot's idea of fun. He's not really a passive kinda guy, in any meaning of the word. After two hours of just sitting there he's about ready to crawl out of his own fucking skin, goddamit!

"What's with the twitching, man?" Hardison finally snaps. "You got ants in your pants?"

"What are we even doing here?” Eliot hisses. “We should just go in there and kick the truth out of those assholes."

Hardison sighs. "Or I could blow you and maybe then you'll stop being such a whiny bitch."

Eliot chokes. "Uhm, okay?"

Works like a charm.

 

\-------

 **Reverence**  
Jayne/Inara (Firefly) for evilmaniclaugh. 200 words.

He’s usually loud when he’s at it. Alone or in company, same difference. Can’t see much point in holding it in once he’s got something or someone working his dick. Hand, mouth, the tightness of a pussy… It all feels goddamn good, something his whole body appreciates, vocal cords included. So he grunts and groans and swears for all he’s worth until he finally comes, cursing up a streak. Sex should be heard, he figures. The louder the better.

Not with Inara though. 

Sounds seem too obscene, too dirty for someone as fine as her. When he lies back, watching through slitted eyes as she rides him, graceful as a nymph, even his shallow breathing seems too loud. He bites his lower lip to keep the grunts from escaping, hands big and clumsy around her thin waist, the smell of his own sweat sordid and shameful. One small palm is pressed against his chest, her movements in rhythm with the rapid beating of his heart. When he sucks her nipples into his mouth they taste fresh like strawberries. Everything about her is clean and sweet and pure. 

He feels blessed that she’ll give him this. And shameful for accepting it.

**Author's Note:**

> Might be added to if I find/write more.


End file.
